


Neon? Neon.

by pechekeen



Series: It Goes Hand In Hand [1]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Body Shots, Come play, Drinking, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, Lace Panties, M/M, Sexual Content, Smut, that sweet bathroom blowie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-23 02:06:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14322165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pechekeen/pseuds/pechekeen
Summary: Filled with drunk dancing, body shots and more.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [Inspo here!](http://peche-keen.tumblr.com/post/172890978705/neon-neon-but-also-imagine-tim-and-armie-going)
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> All of the added comments drove me to actually write something about it haha. This will be a twofer (or maybe a little more depending on how much smut I'm inspired to write) so have no fear guys. The smut's coming in due time, but until then I hope you enjoy this bit!
> 
> Also, just a heads up, this is probably set in an au of some sort. Please don't ask me the logistics I just wanted to write this and be free. I might actually write them as, you know, actors one day but for now.. let's just say Armie's some wealthy business guy thnkx.

The amount of control and tireless effort to remain picture perfect, or whatever other bullshit the media depicted him as at this point, had almost ground him to his wit's end. So, he wasn't too hard on himself for needing to cut some slack and just _let loose_. Armie knew that if he kept downing shot after shot then there would be some sort of mishap that would happen sometime tonight. And that was the exact reason why he took a break and went to go dance. Well, Timothée had practically dragged him towards the dance floor the second his empty glass hit the bartop. The burn of the shot still lingered in his throat as he got swallowed in the masses. His veins were flowing, already half intoxicated with the joy of liquid fire in a mix of the alcohol itself and by just being within the same proximity as Timothée.

It had always been easy to fall in tune with the brunet, and in more time than not, they were usually reduced to anything that ranged from a secret smile to uproarious laughter. Right now he was personally settled in between the two. There was a lopsided grin that hung loosely on his lips. The heat and lack of space that came with the crowd made things a little suffocating, sure, but none of it mattered when most of his attention was honed in on one person. The same person that eventually asked for another drink while their bodies ground against each other in a matching rhythm. Armie was delayed with his answer, but when Timothée reached up to tug his head down by the hair he was snapped to attention. The request for another drink was muttered right into his ear and he was let go a moment later.

So, Armie went without further prompting. His tall stature made it a little easier for him to wade through the sea of bodies. It took a little while, but he couldn't find it in himself to be irked by the delay. He had opened his mouth to order them both another drink , but was sidetracked by some conversation from a few patrons that lingered next to him at the bar. They sparked an idea, one of which he couldn't say he _hadn't_ thought of before, and it caused him to look back towards the dance floor to seek out that mess of wild, dark curls.

It took a few seconds, but he eventually saw the man he was looking for. _Said man_ was currently laughing his ass off with his arms wrapped tightly around someone in the thick of the dance floor. Now, Armie was a strong man with pride and a shit ton of layers to conceal the softer bits of his psyche, but it was very well known that his impulse control and incredible lack of filter wasn't all that great. It was already a fifty-fifty of what he would say when he was sober, and now that he was halfway inebriated.. well, there would always be faults in anyone's decisions at some point of their lives, right?

He left his spot at the bar to maneuver his way back over to Timothée. The brunet was still grinning from ear to ear, and Armie had to look away for a second when someone bumped into him. When he looked back up he saw Timothée with his mouth open and his tongue peeking out just over his lower lip. Their eyes caught and he swore he saw the younger quirk one side of his lips into a smirk. He wasn't exactly sure what the intent or reason was there, but he felt a crackle of _something_ race up his spine in an instant and knew he didn't want to know.

" _Hey_ ," Armie said loud enough to be heard over the thundering music. "Come on, drinks are over there." He began to pry the other's arms off of the stranger as he spoke and he nodded his head towards the general vicinity of where the bar was at. If he was a better man he might've looked away from the stranger and put his full attention on Timothée, but jealousy was one spicy bitch and he was honestly pretty whipped by it. So, he flat out glowered at the stranger as he untangled his friend's arms. The look on his face was probably nothing less than murderous since the other man widened his eyes and nearly tripped over his feet in retreat. Then, he finally looked over at Timothée and he didn't miss the clear confusion that played out on the brunet's face, or the slight pout that came with the delayed understanding.

"I thought you were gonna bring them over _here_ ," Timothée said and skipped over the silent exchange between Armie and the stranger. His arms dropped down and found purchase on Armie's forearm. The muscle that laid there was gripped onto with more weight than expected, but it was clear that Timothée was in the same state that he was- if not a little more.

"I know I did and now I'm saying that they're over _there_. Come on, it's worth it, I promise." He started to lead them both over towards the bar and it proved to be a small challenge. Armie had to use his own body as a sort of barrier to nudge people out of the way, and he had to keep an eye on the way Timothée moved. The last thing he wanted was for the brunet to stumble and fall in this stampede of heated bodies and flashing lights.

"You _promise_? That's a big leap of faith," Timothée crowded back with a lilt of laughter that simmered around the edges of his words. They were said in good humor, and while it might not have been the other's intention, he was struck with a sobering moment of reality. It only lasted for a few seconds before he shoved it out of his mind, because he was here to enjoy himself _goddammit_.

" _Yes_ , I promise." A couple nearly fell into Timothée, but he was quick to reach an arm out to prevent that from happening. There was a crease of surprise that came to his expression instinctively, but he heard a peal of laughter and a push of solid weight against his front as his friend leaned into him. Timothée practically had mirth dance around in his eyes, and the joyous smile was infectious. He felt his own lips tug up and he narrowed his eyes a little. "What's so funny?"

"You," Timothée said without missing a beat before he moved on just as fast. "What's the big deal about not drinking here, though?"

The response was too vague for him to grasp in his half drunk state, and the following question provided an adequate change of subject for a moment. "Overheard some guys, and they mentioned body shots."

"Body shots?" There was an obvious interest that piqued in Timothée's voice as they grew closer to the edge of the bustle, and Armie felt some reassurance by the sound of it.

"Body shots," Armie confirmed and he felt a sudden pull as Timothée lopped ahead of him. The change of pace had him widen his smile and he trailed behind with his arm still in the other's hold.

There was an incredible lack of a plan when they arrived. Timothée had been a little too eager to lift his shirt, but Armie pushed the fabric back down and said that he'd go first since he technically owed him a drink. Then one thing lead to another and before he knew it, Armie was staring over at the bartender's hand that poured amber liquid onto the area that dipped around his navel. He sucked his stomach in a little to accommodate an actual shot's worth of liquor and glanced over at Timothée. There was an interesting display that played across the brunet's face. The other's lips were parted and still turned upwards into a smile, but now it seemed a little more breathless than before. He noticed how there was a deepened tinge to Timothée's cheeks; how he went to wet his lower lip in what seemed to be a subconscious thought.

Armie couldn't help how his grin turned a bit smug. He might not be stone cold sober, but even he could pick up on the way he was being looked at. It wasn't just by Timothée either. Some of the people around them stared, but the only gaze that mattered was of the man that stood right next to him as he laid on the bartop.

His shirt hadn't been fully discarded, but he had it hiked up just enough to make room for the pool of tequila and the line of salt on his upper abdomen. Then, when the bartender was done pouring, he took the wedge of lime to hold onto for the time being. "Alright, go, go, go!" He urged with the same wide grin stretched across his face.

He didn't need to say anything else as Timothée ducked down to latch his lips over Armie's navel. The feeling of wet suction almost made him squirm from being mildly ticklish in that area, but it quickly morphed into something more heated. All Timothée needed to do was suck the tequila off of him, move onto the salt, and then grab the lime from his hand. Yet it seemed like the brunet wanted to torture him a little bit. _Yes_ , he really did label it as torture since he felt a slow drag of Timothée's tongue over the hot skin of his lower abdomen. The tease even dipped into his navel for a moment before his friend pulled back just enough to let those lips skim up towards the salt.

The way his pulse thudded in his chest would've been comical if he wasn't trying his damn hardest to keep the rush of blood from going south. It wasn't something he could really control, but he felt a little done in from how stupidly sensual Timothée was being. The lick over his upper abdomen made him shiver, and Timothée went just as slow as he had done with the tequila. Armie refused to let the uprising moan escape past his throat so he put the lime into his mouth; half out of a vain attempt to keep himself quiet and half as payback. The bitter taste from the rind made him swallow involuntarily, and he caught Timothée's eyes in that exact moment. A corner of his lip twitched into a smirk from the half winded look his friend gave him.

Naturally , there were two ways this could go. The first being the simple removal by hand, and the second was by mouth. Timothée didn't have to do the latter, but Armie was fucking thrilled when the younger man didn't lift a single finger. Timothée took a few steps over instead so he wouldn't have to crane his neck too far, and Armie's eyes stayed intent on every single movement his friend made until their faces were mere inches apart. There was a brief pause and he swore his heart was going to pry itself out of his chest if they stared at each other any longer. His hands itched with the need to reach up and sink into the muss of curls that now hung over a part of his face.

Then he felt the other's breath fan over him as the lime was removed from his mouth with Timothée's own. Some of the juice from the citrus dripped past the brunet's lips and onto his chin. Armie went to lick what was closest to his mouth without a second thought. There was a knowing look thrown down at him as the brunet straightened up and sucked on the wedge. The breath he had been holding melted in a small laugh as he nudged Timothée away from the barside. "Tease," Armie mumbled, low and close to Timothée's ear after he hefted himself off of the counter.

There was what only could be described as the definition of a _shit eating grin_ on Timothée's face in return. "Felt like you needed a reminder," Timothée murmured back after he took the lime out of his mouth.

Armie quirked a brow as a silent question. Just what made Timothée feel like he out of all people needed a reminder of how big of a tease his friend was? He rolled his eyes lightheartidly and ushered Timothée to take his place on the bartop. If he had to adjust himself subtly while Timothée lifted his shirt then he prayed that no one else noticed it. Actually, he took that back and felt justified with getting half hard from experiencing what Timothée had just dragged him through. Surely anyone else would have the same reaction as him. Of course, for sure, _anyways_ -

The bartender didn't have to ask where to pour since Timothée motioned to his bellybutton. His friend had pulled up his shirt until the fabric bunched under his armpits.

"Copycat," Armie teased and the soft deadpan he got back made him chortle. He could understand what the other left unsaid, and the damnedest thing was that Timothée was right. He might've teased for the lack of originality, but there was no way in _hell_ that his words were a complaint. The chance to feel the warmth of his friend's middle out in public was too enticing for him to pass up after all.

The tequila was poured out before the salt was laid in the same place Armie had it. It took some effort for Timothée's to lay still since the man was rather inebriated, and it made him drag his eyes away from the dark liquid that pooled across smooth skin. The same skin that had always made his throat feel dry yet made his mouth water at the same time. It made his hands itch to feel along the hard planes of Timothée's body, and now he got to indulge a little. Well, _a lot_ since they were head deep in this agreement to do body shots off of each other.

Once Timothée was handed the lime he wasted no time to dive in. Was it obvious that he was a little too eager to drink the tequila off of the other's body? Definitely. Did he care? No, not really and it definitely wasn't enough to slow him down until he had his lips pressed against the heat of his friend's stomach. Armie mimicked the prolonged action Timothée had so kindly demonstrated, and he nearly laughed when Timothée wriggled under him. It wasn't enough to spill the liquor, but he placed a hand on the man's hip to steady him anyways.

That motion seemed _to do something_ to Timothée. If he hadn't been so focused with the task at hand he would've missed the barely audible whine that came from the other. Now he was as smug as he could be and made a show to lick his lips once he had lapped up the salt. Their eyes leveled with each other and he was sure the dark look on his face matched his friend. All that was left was the lime, and he didn't move until Timothée started to lift the fruit to his mouth.

"Nuh-uh." Armie reached over to pause the movement by the wrist. There was a protesting frown in response, but he plucked the lime out of Timothée's grasp and stuck it into his own mouth. "Gonna have to put a hard stop on the lack of originality, sweet tea."

Timothée rolled his his eyes hard enough Armie could've practically heard it. His friend sat up and pulled down his shirt before he hopped down. "Fine, you want originality? Then let's go take this to the john."

There was a hint of, dare he say it, impatience in Timothée's voice. It made him arch a brow and he took the lime out of his mouth. "To the _john_?" He asked to cover up the implication the younger man was laying down.

"See, totally original when it's coming from me- do you want to or not?" Timothée asked as he swayed a little.

Armie reached out to steady him and felt his friend's hand grip onto the front of his rumpled shirt. "I don't think that's how it works, but okay- lead the way, originality king."


	2. Stay Still, Stay Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're both just full of surprises, but the night's not over yet.

Anyone with eyes could see what their intentions were as they neared the bathroom. Armie wasn't as drunk as Timothée, but even he faltered here and there on the way over. There was a lopsided and giddy grin still spread across Timothée's face, and that, in turn, had him mirror the expression as well. A dull thud announced their stumble into the bathroom. Armie hardly had the time to get used to the florescent lighting before he was all but dragged over to the biggest stall that sat at the end of the room. He was pushed, or shoved more like, towards the tiled wall once he was inside before his space was instantly crowded. The cool press to his back and the nape of his neck contrasted the heat his friend emanated against his front. All of the dancing and precursory teasing vanished and he couldn't hold back a small groan when he felt Timothée press their hips together.

" _Door_ ," he managed to grit out, although he already had a hand settled on Timothée's hip. There was a small pause of annoyance that came to the brunet's face, but Timothée craned over to slide the lock in place. Then they were back to being pressed up agaisnt each other like they _didn't_ have an entire stall to share.

His fingers dug in a little just to steady Timothée when the younger man tilted a little too far to the side. Armie breathed a soft laugh and took a moment to just stare while he could; while Timothée wasn't trying to move him around in a rush. The mop of dark hair laid in an even wilder mess than usual, but it did wonders to fram the angular features of other's face. A particularly stubborn curl remained flopped over Timothée's right eye and he went to go tuck it behind the brunet's ear without thought. His touch was gentle, almost _too sweet_ for the way he was being stared at. The green hazel of Timothée's eyes were swallowed by dark hunger; one of which matched his own desire. Yet Timothée canted his head and leaned into his palm to meet the soft display with his own. The other's eyes fluttered shut for a moment as the breathless grin dulled down to one of those private smiles they reserved just for each other.

And _fuck_ did that squeeze the shit out of his heart. He suddenly forgot why they had stormed in here. All of his focus was pulled towards the connection between his own hand and his friend's cheek. They stayed like that for a few more seconds before Timothée opened his eyes again. The brunet looked at him through those long, dark lashes, and Armie swore that his breathing stopped midway from that simple _look_.

"So, about that originality..." He mused quietly and the tender moment between them broke. That same eager grin spread across Timothée's mouth again and this time there was a hint of smugness. Armie knew right then and there that whatever Timothée had in store had to be mind blowing. It _had_ to be without a doubt, because he came to understand that this man never half assed anything.

" _Yup_ ," Timothée said with a hard pop to the ending syllable. "Got a lot of it."

Armie quirked his brows a little and let a small chuckle slip past. "Yeah, I don't doubt that, but you know.. trying to get me to get that lime out of your mouth wasn't that original, T." He pitched his voice into a light chide and he was rewarded with a roll of the other's eyes.

"Get off your high horse, Armz- you're not the only one that does that for body shots," Timothée said as he leaned back a little. Armie's hand was still grounded on one hip so he couldn't go that far, and the added distance didn't seem to lessen the heat in between them.

"You accusing my horse of toking it, or are you calling my horse fat?" Armie asked with mock hurt evident in his voice.

Timothée broke out in laughter and ducked his head forward as his body shook. "You're ridiculous- what does weight have to do with the phrase _high horse?_ "

"I'm fucking drunk, I don't know," he laughed back. "Only thing I _do_ know is that you didn't drag me in here just to talk about metaphorical horses."

"Wow, you hear those jeopardy bells going off? Cause we got a winner here," Timothée mused back with another chortle.

It was Armie's turn to roll his eyes while he let the back of his head rest against the wall. " _Ha, ha_ , hilarious. Come on, quit yanking my chain." Apparently he was the impatient one now, and Timothée sure as hell picked up on it judging by the way the brunet looked at him.

"I'm not yanking anything besides your clothes." Timothée curled a hand into the front of Armie's shirt and pulled a little as emphasis before he smoothed the fabric back down. "Your hair.." He lifted a hand to slowly, almost agonizingly so, card through the blond's hair.

Armie had lifted his head away from the wall reflexively and he his subconscious effort was rewarded by a somewhat rough pull at the lower side of his hair. A hiss was pushed out through his teeth as he felt the sharp tug go straight down to his dick.

"And your cock," Timothée drawled as his hand dropped from Armie's hair. The flat of the brunet's palm ran along the chest, down the abdomen and paused right at the top of Armie's pants. There was barely enough space for Timothée to fit more than two fingers in between them, yet he tugged on the waistband for a moment before he moved his hand to steady himself against the wall. "Later, though."

The altered course of direction threw Armie for a loop. He had been expecting Timothée to touch him exactly where the man spoke of, but his friend fell short and _didn't_. His jaw clenched and he groaned out of mild frustration. "Come on, Tim," he mumbled and ground his hips against the other's as some added persuasion.

Timothée's eyes closed again and his breath hitched ever so slightly. "On me? _Later._ "

_Fuck._ His mouth went dry when the image of doing just that forced its way into his mind. Armie could imagine it so clearly and he was a hair away from moving things at his own pace, because _god fucking dammit_ he needed more than just his hand on Timothée's hip and their bodies pressed together.

The lack of response was taken advantage of and Timothée took a step back. Armie's hand gripped onto the younger man's hip to keep him there, but Timothée arched a brow at him and went to unwound his fingers. Armie was reluctant to let go, but he did it and let his friend guide him. His fingers were placed right at the fly of the brunet's jeans and he paused to look at Timothée in the eyes.

"Do you need me to bow or get on my knees as a formal invitation?" Timothée scoffed lightly with amusement behind his gaze.

Armie felt a little winded from yet another image that came to mind. This time of Timothée on his knees, eyes cast upwards at him through that tangle of hair, and it took a considerable amount of effort to not get lost in it. "Who the hell gets on their knees to make a formal invitation?" He asked as he started to undo the button before he pulled down the zipper.

"I'm fucking drunk, I don't know," Timothée quoted him with a shit eating grin spread wide across his face. "Only thing I _do_ know is that your eyes should be down there and not up here for once."

The brunet nodded down to where his hand had paused at the bottom of the fly. Armie heeded his friend's advice and felt his blood pressure drop instantly. He had expected to see boxers or boxer briefs, but he was met with something entirely different. "Christ.." His voice was barely above a whisper as he stared at the delicate pattern of lace. The fabric of it was already strained and his hand moved on its own accord. He went to press the pads of his fingers against the base of the other's cock and he felt Timothée reach out to place a hand on the side of his abs.

Armie was too absorbed with the deep burgundy and how it contrasted against the pale skin the undergarment laid over. The deep seated arousal that had burned in his gut grew twofold as he skimmed his fingers over the thin fabric, almost in a reverent way as his entire focus was pinned on the lace. If he wasn't so drunk he'd probably be moving to feel more, but his alcohol addled brain wanted to try and soak up the visage for a little while.

"Surprise," Timothée breathed with a smile evident in his voice as he watched the blond. "I know you were pretty stressed out for the past few weeks and figured this might help. I was going to show you later on, but.." His voice trailed off and he shrugged to finish the thought.

An odd lump formed in his throat from the explanation. The iron grip he usually had over his emotions and inner thoughts waned due to the liquor he had consumed. Normally he would've cracked a joke or two, made light of the situation before he turned it on its head and into something more heated. Right now, though, he felt touched; genuinely touched in a deeper way he'd like to admit. Armie finally looked up and didn't care if he looked like he had just seen the light of day for the first time in his life. Words of gratitude were right at the tip of his tongue, but he decided to forgo them and pulled Timothée in by the neck with this free hand.

Their mouths met and he held the brunet tightly against him. Armie was insistent and probably would've bruised the other's lips somehow if Timothée hadn't parted them. He pushed his tongue in, needing to lick and taste as much as he could with renewed vigor- no, _passion_. That word dropped through the muddled thoughts in his head with so much clarity it frightened him a little. Feelings were starting to surface and he was almost frantic to keep them crammed down inside of him.

Some part of him was reassured, though, when it seemed like Timothée was on the same level as him. Their teeth clicked as their breaths mixed, and Armie slid his hand from the back of the other's neck to rest against the sharp jut of the collarbone. His thumb soothed over the pointed angle before he pushed their lower halves apart just enough to slip his hand down again. Timothée's pants were tugged down and he palmed over the lace again; this time with more area to touch instead of the partial opening like before. He groaned into the open heat of the other's mouth and heard a similiar noise escape from the other .

Timothée arched in his touch and grasped the middle of his shirt. The kiss broke but Timothée reached up to tangle a hand into Armie's hair again to keep his head still. Another low groan resonated from the taller's throat from the sensation. "You like them that much, huh?" Timothée asked, clearly a little winded from having the air kissed out of him just then. "You know why I chose this color?"

Armie shook his head at the suddenly question and swiped a thumb under the head when he felt precome dampen the lace.

It caused the brunet to dig his teeth into the lower lip for a moment before his friend spoke again. "To give you some reference for what I want on me. On my neck from your mouth, on my ass from your hand-"

A small, wounded noise came from him as he listened. It fed into the heat that coursed through his veins and he had no intentions of denying Timothée anything that had been stated. Armie surged forward again to swallow anything else the brunet would say. This time the kiss only lasted for a few beats before he trailed away to latch his lips just beneath the other's jawline. He made sure to suck a deep bruise into the skin before he shifted lower so he could worry another mark right at the junction of the neck and shoulder. Then he felt Timothée tighten his hold in the midst of his hair and he dug his teeth into the tender muscle in response. Both of them moaned louder than they should have, but neither one of them gave a damn.

Armie soothed the flat of his tongue over the bite mark and jerked up when the bathroom door slammed open. The top of his head collided against Timothée's jaw and they both grunted in pain. He was quick to straight up and cupped the impacted area with worry instantly on his face. Timothée motioned that he was okay with one hand and pressed a finger to his lips to _stay quiet_. Armie nearly rolled his eyes but just looked towards the stall door like he could actually see past it and at the intruding people.

Loud chatter echoed through the room and it should have sobered him up a little, but it did the exact opposite. Footsteps came towards were they were and stopped where he imagined the urinals were. Timothée had stilled completely, but Armie looked back over to the other with a lopsided smile on his face. Any sensible person would have stopped everything, or would have simply waited until they were alone again, but he wasn't exactly the most _rational_ when he had more than a few drinks. He locked eyes with Timothée and started to stroke the other through the fabric again. The brunet widened his eyes and snapped his mouth shut a second later in an attempt to keep any and all sounds from being voiced. Now, Armie had always liked to hear the noises Timothée made, but the added risk made him feel almost hellbent to make the other crack.

Armie nudged the younger man back slowly and mouthed the words _stay still_. Timothée looked at him with narrowed eyes and was probably about to protest, but he didn't give the other the oppurtunity to do so as he sank down to his knees. He leaned in to mouth over the panties and felt a hand scrape through the thick of his hair. The feeling had been on the rougher side, but the pain was pleasurable and spurred him on to double his efforts. Armie sucked over the clothed head of Timothée's cock and breathed heavily when his hair was gripped even tighter in response.

His hands smoothed over the sides of Timothée's hips as he trailed his mouth down the entire length and then back up again. Armie looked up through his lashes to see the brunet already staring down at him with furrowed brows. He lightly scraped his teeth along the underside and saw the corner of Timothée's tick. There was the faint sound of a sharp inhale and he stopped his movements completely. An interesting mix of a scowl and a pout flashed across the brunet's face, and all he did was slowly arch an eyebrow. Timothée responded by gently nudging Armie by the back of the head and he resumed his ministrations a moment later.

There was a bout of laughter from the strangers as one of the urinals flushed. Armie winked at Timothée and pulled the garment down. He didn't waste anymore time and licked a long stripe from the root up before he wrapped his lips around the head. Armie worked his tongue along the underside to delve and swipe where he knew Timothée was sensitive while he started to bob his head.

Another urinal flushed and the sound of running water cut in. He wrapped a hand to pump along what he couldn't fit in his mouth as he sped up the pace. Normally he liked to draw things out, but all he could think of at the moment was how much of a struggle Timothée would have if he managed to make the man come right now. The risk of being caught hung over their heads, and he was sure his intentions were clear at this point. It had to be since he could feel Timothée's hand start to tremble slightly.

The idle conversation outside of the stall lingered for a few more minutes even when the faucets were turned off. He found it a little funny how these people decided to have a casual chat in the bathroom of a club, but it gave him more time to get Timothée off so he wasn't about to complain. His cheeks hollowed out when he sucked upwards, and he made sure to give the brunet the sweetest TLC he's ever done.

Every single trick he knew was pulled out of the works. The blunt of his nails were scraped along the exposed area of the outer thigh, and he swallowed Timothée down until the back of his throat was nudged. Armie swallowed instinctively but he sucked in a deep breath through his nose and eased the tension out of his throat so he could take more in. His efforts didn't go to waste when he felt a quiet pant drop from above. He inched down a little more and then drew back to catch another breath before he sank back down again. There was a small tremor under the hand that had been kept on the brunet's hip and he smiled to himself inwardly. _Just a few more moments.._

The bathroom door was opened and the music from outside flooded in until it was closed. Once everything went quiet he let a long groan resonate from the chest. The way he sucked Timothée got considerably messier and it drew out a litany of pleads and swears from the other.

_"Fuck_ , Armie - I'm.." Timothée's voice pitched into a swelling keen as the other's breathing grew erratic. The hand that stayed on the back of his head held him still as Timothée started to fuck into his mouth. It gave Armie a small break from having to crane his head back and forth, but he had to focus on keeping his throat loose enough to _not_ choke. Then again...

Armie moved his other hand so he could hold Timothée still as he dove in as far as he could. Then he swallowed and let his throat constrict around the other's cock. A broken, shakey curse was rattled out just before his own name followed. Rivulets of come poured down his throat and he pulled back just enough so he could swallow it all. His eyes were half lided when he pulled back all the way with the flat of his tongue running along the underside. It drew out a full body shudder and he was pulled up the second his mouth was free.

Timothée kissed him hard and he groaned at the knowledge of how the brunet could taste himself on his tongue. His own need for release begged for attention, but he chose to ignore it for a moment longer just so he could get lost in the kiss that started to lose steam. Now they just kissed languidly before Timothée drew back with a dazed touch still heavy on his face.

"You didn't need to do that," he said quietly.

Armie just shrugged and pulled up the lace before he did the same for the other's pants. "I know, but I wanted to." There was a deeper timbre to his voice as he spoke and he noticed how Timothée seemed to stare at him with another tinge of hunger. That just made him cock a grin and the younger man smacked him on the chest lightheartidly. Then silence fell as they stayed there with matching smiles on heir faces until Armie broke it. "Thank you, for that." He nodded at the peak of burgandy that stayed revealed from the opened fly.

The brunet tilted his head a little to the side and didn't say anything for a second. "You're welcome," Timothée said with a nod as he started to readjust himself and tidy up. "But I wasn't kidding about the color thing." His voice dropped into a low purr and Armie bit the inside of his cheek.

"I know you weren't, but I'd rather have more space and time to do that," Armie said with a knowing look. "Kind of like my bedroom for the rest of the night.." His voice trailed off and Timothée beamed at him.

"The rest of the night- no take backs even if your back _does_ go out," the brunet said as the stall door was unlocked.

Armie narrowed his eyes and snorted lightly in return. "I'm not that fucking old, you ass."

Timothée just kept grinning and took him by the hand to lead them both out of the bathroom.

"You're right, but you will be fucking _me_." Came the cheeky reply as they both immersed themselves back into the club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand here we are with a little bit more than just body shots! we had a foot in the door with the last one and now it's like.. a whole leg and the next chapter will probably be full on balls to the wall. not literally though ok.   
> any feedback and/or suggestions is always appreciated! leave a comment here or reach out to me over [on my tumblr! ](peche-keen.tumblr.com)


	3. Handsy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It shouldn't take _that long_ to get back to Armie's place, but one thing happens and then it leads to another.. and another....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey folks, sorry this is a short one! all of this was supposed to be one chapter, but... yeah, it was way too lengthy so i split it! with that being said though- i'll have the next chapter out by tomorrow sometime and _boy_ there's some content there. i'm talking about dicks finally being out (well more out then they already were in the past two chapters) and some other good stuff!

Getting outside shouldn't have been such a struggle, but the place was packed and their vision still wasn't as straight as it should be. Timothée seemed to be looser, less pent up, but still had a line of energy that pulled him through the crowd. Their trek to the front door turned a few heads, and Armie beamed back at those nosy fuckers every time he locked eyes with them. Some people immediately looked away, while others arched their eyebrows and showed some signs of interest.

Yeah, he wasn't one for sharing on a good day, and he sure as hell wasn't about to have someone trail after them on their way out. So, he _might have_ flicked a few people off, but Timothée didn't seem to notice and they broke past the stifling music a moment later. The rush of cold air seeped underneath his clothing and sent shivers down his spine. It seemed like he wasn't the only one that had been impacted by the change of temperature either. Timothée had huddled closer to his side and Armie wrapped an arm around the brunet's shoulder without thought. He rubbed the man's arm in an attempt to offer some more heat while he hailed a taxi.

It took a few tries, but a car stopped eventually and he went to hold the door open. Timothée nearly went in face first from the change of angle, but he managed to snag an arm and pull his friend up a little to prevent an accidental collision. There was a loud burst of laughter as Timothée struggled to righten up himself, and he shook his head fondly while he got in and shut the door. Armie gave his address to the driver and settled in for the ride.

It couldn't have been more than three minutes before he felt a hand creep over his leg. His gaze fell down to see the slender hand pause just before his inner thigh. Armie rose brow and slowly dragged his eyes up to Timothée. He had expected to lock eyes with the other, but saw that the younger man wasn't looking at him. The brunet had his head turned towards the window and seemed to be none the wiser of what his hand was doing.

He looked away and went to stare out of the window on his side. _Maybe it was just a casual touch and nothing more,_ he thought to himself. A few more minutes passed before Timothée's hand inched closer to his groin and he felt his pulse pick up. He was still semi hard from blowing Timothée in the bathroom, and he swore his friend was trying to see how far he could be pushed.

His jaw was clenched when the heel of the other's palm pressed against the swell in his pants. Armie swallowed thickly to keep a moan down and he shot Timothée a glare. The tease still had his head turned away, but seemed to take notice of his reaction regardless. More pressure was applied and Armie nearly hit his head against the window. He leaned his temple against the cold glass and noticed the brunet's reflection from across the car. Their eyes locked and Timothée _smirked_.

God fucking _dammit._

There wasn't a doubt in his mind that his friend was set on making him come in his pants, and the idea should have horrified him a little. Yet it wasn't enough for him to actually move one of his own hands to stop the other. His legs spread a little more and he actually pushed his hips _into_ the touch for some reason. It seemed like his body wanted release without a single care as to where they were, and he was pretty amazed at the drunken realization. Then again, he had been turned on for a few hours given all of the teasing so maybe it wasn't _that big_ of a surprise as he made it out to be.

Timothée stroked him through his pants slowly and Armie had resigned himself to the inevitable. His want to come outweighed the shame, but then the brunet stopped all at once and shot forward a little. Armie jerked his head away from the window, and the brunet gripped the partition with an audible _smack_. That startled both the driver and him at the same time. The first thing that came to mind was that Timothée had to hurl, and he was almost certain the driver thought the same thing as well when he saw the man's eyes snap up in the rear-view mirror, but they were both proven wrong.  
_"Wait!_ " Timothée practically shouted. "We're changing it-"

They were _what?_ Armie stared at the younger man in clear confusion, but Timothée just gave the driver his own address before he flopped back into the back seat. A deep frown was set onto his lips as he watched Timothée. "I thought we were going to my place." It had come out as a statement rather than a question, and Timothée just smiled back at him.

"We were, but I just remembered something," Timothée said as an explanation. Then, after a few seconds, it was apparent that it wasn't enough of one so the brunet reached back over and covered the back of Armie's hand with his own. "Trust me?"

The words were said so softly that he felt taken aback from how much the mood shifted once again. One second Timothée was trying to make him cream his pants in the backseat of a taxi, and now he was being spoken to like Timothée had something incredibly important to confess. It was giving him whiplash if he was being completely honest, but he relaxed his shoulders and nodded anyways. "Always," he said back and turned his hand so they could link their fingers together.

The touch of uncertainty on Timothée's features brightened with his response, and now he felt a little blinded by the sight. Armie squeezed the other's hand and they remained quiet and placid for the rest of the ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any feedback is always appreciated! Leave a comment here or reach out to me [over on my Tumblr!](http://peche-keen.tumblr.com/)


	4. Deep Burgundy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and.. here it is ~~finally~~ (i tried and this is all unbetaed!)

CHAPTER 4 Surprise?  
Once they pulled up to the apartment, the driver was paid and tipped heavily before they both stumbled inside of the complex. Armie had the joy of watching Timothée try to slap the right button when they got into the elevator for a solid minute before he pressed it to save them some time. He got an elbow to his side in response, but he just chortled and pulled Timothée towards him. They only needed to go up two floors, but he took the chance and kissed the brunet full on the mouth.

It started off chaste for a few seconds, but then he felt the other's tongue peak out and skim along the seam of his lips. Armie immediately parted them and tilted his head so they could deepen the kiss. He crowded Timothée against the wall and felt long fingers sink into the back of his hair. A moan slipped past, still gritty from how he far he had taken Timothée down his throat, but he liked the sound of it when the brunet seemed to melt in his hold.

Then the elevator stopped with a _ding_ and they parted just enough to walk into the hallway. They matched in stride, both too eager to draw things out any longer, and started kissing again once they got into Timothée's place. Armie closed the door by pinning Timothée's body against the surface. The neighbors next door probably heard the slam, but they were too lost in the taste of each other to care. He parted the brunet's legs with his knee and felt Timothée's arousal matched his own. "Fuck," he murmured when they parted to breathe. "You're hard again- that's promising." A smirk started to tug at the corner of his lips when he felt Timothée grind down against him.

"No shit," Timothée breathed as he pulled Armie's head back by the hair. The responding noise of pleasure drove the brunet to lean in and suck a dark bruise right above the collarbone. Armie's jaw went slack slightly, but then Timothée's hands untangled from his hair and pushed him back. Confused, he stumbled a step and looked at his friend. He was pushed again- no, _guided_ backwards until his lower back bumped into the couch. "Do you-"

Timothée shook his head, already knowing what Armie was about to ask, and smiled. "No, trust me- I really don't want to stop, but I need to for a second, okay?"

Armie had no fucking clue why they had stopped if that was the case. "Then what.." A hand was placed on the flat of his stomach and cut him off.

"Just stay here. Get comfortable- definitely lose a few layers," Timothée said as his darkened gaze swept over the taller man's figure. "Actually, all of them. Think you can do that?"

"I _know_ I can do that," Armie retorted with a light roll of his eyes. "But I want to know why-"

"You'll see. Please?" Timothée interrupted again as he took a step back.   
A small huff came from him as he pursed his lips, clearly not too happy about the distance, but he relented and went to go sit down when Timothée made a shooing motion. "Better hurry up before I forget and get started without you," Armie called out when he plopped onto the couch.

"You better not," Timothée answered, _"no touching either."_

Armie scowled to himself then. _No touching?_ Why the hell _not?_ A big part of him wanted to do just that because he had been told not to, but he busied himself with getting rid of his clothes instead. His shirt was yanked up and over his head before he undid his pants and wriggled out of them. Both articles of clothing were dropped onto the floor before he pulled off his boxers. His cock slapped heavily against his lower abdomen, and he almost went to give a few tugs before he remembered that Timothée had said to be all 'hands free.'

Armie scoffed again and got himself comfortable against the cushions. He rubbed a hand over his face as he thought about what Timothée was up to. It had to be important enough to not only alter their original destination, but to also be that cryptic about ducking out for a moment.

Maybe Timothée needed to get something? A toy or something similar perhaps? That idea perked him up a little. Then again, maybe his friend suddenly felt sick and really did need to heave. That particular thought cut through him with a healthy dose of concern. If that was the case then he shouldn't be out here dawdling like a sitting duck, but he didn't hear any noises of distress or the toilet flush.

_Maybe.._ God, he was running out of ideas, and he was starting to sober up a little. Armie let his head fall against the back of the couch as he trailed the tips of his fingers down his chest and stomach. The feather light touch made him shiver, and he somehow had the restraint to not wrap a hand around his cock. His hand hovered at the dip that lined his hip for a few moments before he hesitated. _Just a few tugs couldn't hurt.._

Suddenly, the bedroom door opened and he went to crane his head to see his friend. "Nuh-uh, don't look over here yet." Timothée said and he grumbled again. Armie kept his eyes forward and stared pointedly at how his cock twitched. _Traitor_ , he thought to himself as he strained his ears to pick up on the other's footsteps. They came closer, rounded the side of the couch and then stopped right in front of him.

Armie looked up and could've died as the happiest man alive right then, because _holy shit._

There stood Timothée fucking Chalamet in the most stunning garter set imaginable. That might be a small exaggeration, but the intricate lacework of the lingerie made his jaw drop. The brunet had his hands on his hips with his head held up high in a proud display. The combination of the remarkable burgundy lace that matched the thigh highs, and the rosy flush over the man's cheeks and neck had him swear he was in seventh heaven. Maybe even in eighth heaven if that was possible.

"You'll catch flies like that," Timothée mused as he reached over to gingerly shut Armie's mouth with a finger. Dark curls fell forward as the brunet leaned in, and Armie snapped out of the reverie with an intense clasp of _want_. It nearly punched all the air out of his lungs, and his body moved before his mind could catch up completely. He pulled Timothée onto him as he straightened up. The other's legs straddled him as their mouths clashed, and he licked his way in greedily. A surprised noise had been voiced, but Armie breathed it in and ground their hips together. It rattled a deep groan from both of them, but they didn't slow the way they kissed.

The need to not only feel the garter set but to truly _appreciate_ it intensified when his hands skimmed over the back of the lace. Armie lifted Timothée up, and the other's legs immediately wrapped around his waist despite the small noise of surprise. They kissed the entire way over to the bedroom, and only broke apart when Armie lowered the brunet onto the bed.

Timothée laid there with his arms still looped around his neck, but Armie ducked out of them so he could lean back on his knees. "Fuck, Tim.." He breathed, still stuck in some disbelief as to what he was witnessing with his own eyes.

"That's the plan," Timothée said as he arched his back a little and reached down to stroke Armie's cock. Another curse left the blond as his head tilted back some. "To fuck me- God, you're so hard." A long bead of precome seeped out and trailed down the pale expanse of Timothée's wrist. Timothée swiped his tongue along his lower lip slowly as his eyes stayed on the slow drip. "Wanna taste you."

He groaned openly at the thought and rolled his hips into the loose hand. "Fuck , _yes_ , but I want to finger you while you do it- slowly." Armie caught the brunet's gaze and saw the way Timothée's adam's apple bobbed from swallowing. _"Slowly,"_ he repeated with a long drag to each syllable. Timothée's hand twisted around the head of his cock and he sucked in a breath through his nose.

"Slowly," Timothée said back in confirmation as he started to get up. "How do you.."

Armie leaned forward to kiss the brunet for a quick moment before he motioned for Timothée to scoot over. Then, he laid down and extended an arm out. "Like this- on top of me, but get the lube first." His arm dropped down to the bed as he spoke, and he nearly had to catch his friend when Timothée crawled over him to rummage around in the nightstand. He _did_ get a knee in the ribs and he reached up to hold Timothée by the hip to steady him.

There was an adorable noise of triumph when Timothée leaned back with the bottle in his hand. "Thank you, peach," Armie said as he took the bottle from the brunet's hand. The item was abandoned on the spot beside him as he helped Timothée turn around.

"Peach?" Timothée asked as he settled over the blond's lower half. His breath washed over the v of Armie's hip just before the brunet nosed at the base of the man's cock. The length twitched as he wrapped his lips around the swollen head.

A soft moan left him before Armie could speak. The kitten lick over the slit of his cock tempted him to arch his hips _up_ , but he kept his back against the bed and turned his attention elsewhere; namely to Timothée's ass and cock that now hung incredibly close to his face. "Yeah, peach- you have two of them right here." Armie reached up to smooth his hands over the cheeks. He gripped near the top and smacked the right side as emphasis. Timothée's hips jerked slightly and Armie grinned to himself as he scraped his nails down the smooth flesh until his palms met the thigh highs. "Fuck- you shaved?" He wasn't sure why he asked since he didn't feel the prickle of hair underneath the microfiber.

There was a low, agreeing hum that reverberated around his cock as Timothée inched his mouth down. Armie pushed out a hard breath that melted into a moan as he felt the brunet draw back so just the tip remained in the other's mouth. Armie breathed a moan as he reached up to pull aside the panties and spread apart the brunet's cheeks.

The flat of his tongue ran over the other's hole in a teasing lick. Then he hooked the tip of it to prod at the entrance while he let his hands wander with his nails scraping the other’s skin every now and then. Armie licked his way in and drank in the pleasured noises were voiced around his own cock. He opened Timothée up slowly for a long while before he reached for the bottle of lube. The cap popped open and he poured some of the contents out to rub in between his fingers to warm it up.

When he went to ease a finger into Timothée he felt the brunet swallow him down to the root. A curse left him in a low groan as he inched in his finger in all the way before withdrawing. The noises Timothée made were obscene by the time he had worked in three fingers. Armie shallowly fucked into the wet heat of the other's mouth as he divded his attention between mouthing around Timothée's balls and thoroughly fingering him.

Timothée pulled away with a pant that quickly jolted into a keening noise when Armie crooked his fingers _just right_. "Fuck. Armie- Armie, _please_ just- _fuck_ ," Timothée pleaded as his fingers curled tightly into the bedsheets.

Armie made a noise of agreement and withdrew his fingers to grab the condom. "How do you-"

"I wanna ride you- so like this," Timothée interjected as he turned around while the condom was rolled on. He repositioned himself on his knees while he poured out more lube to slick Armie up. They locked eyes as Timothée kept his panties pulled aside and lined himself up. Neither one of them moved for a second before he sank down and they moaned in unison.

Armie had his hands gripping his friend's hips at that point and reigned in every once of willpower to _not_ immediately fuck into Timothée. He gritted his teeth as the brunet stilled once he bottomed out and let him set the pace once he was adjusted to his size. "Fuck, you're tight," he breathed as Timothée pulled up before he sank back down again.

"It's 'cause you're so fucking big," Timothée said with a huff of laughter as a rhyme was formed. His teeth dug into his lower lip as his curls fell forward to frame his face. Both hands were planted on the wide expanse of Armie's chest as he leaned back to fuck himself onto the blond.

Armie was practically rendered speechless as he dug half crescent shaped bruises into the other's hips. There was a moment where Timothée shifted slightly and seized with a loud gasp. He supported the brunet so he could thrust his hips up at the same angle. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ -" Timothée repeated as one hand scrabbled to dug into the muscle of his chest and another reached down to pump around his own cock. Armie didn't say anything back as he snapped his hips and drew them both closer and _closer-_

_"Fuck, Armie, I'm-"_ Timothée never finished the statement as he tilted backwards and came. Come painted the tanned skin of Armie's abdomen and spilled over the brunet's slim fingers. All Armie could work in was a strangled noise that could have passed as Timothée's name before his own hips stilled. His jaw went slack as the intense wave of pleasure crashed into him. There was a faint ringing in his ears as he tried to catch his breath. He watched as Timothée dragged his fingers through his own release. "Fuck." Their eyes met again and when the brunet brought a hand up to his lips he simply sucked on the other's fingers and quietly moaned from the taste. Armie licked the remaining come on Timothée's hand and the rest from his stomach.

There was a wide, lopsided grin on Timothée's face when he leaned forward to kiss him deeply. He let go of his friend's hips to cup Timothée's face and got lost in the combination of the last dregs of his orgasm and the languid movement of the lips against his. The sound of their strained breathing filled the room until they quieted into a more measured pant.

Timothée eased himself off and flopped down only to huddle against him. The condom was taken off, tied and tossed onto the floor. "You know we have to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow, right?" He asked after a moment of silence. Armie didn't need to look over to know that the brunet had his brows furrowed and his nose scrunched in distaste.

"Don't remind me," Timothée muttered back as he nuzzled into the crook of Armie's shoulder.

He turned to lay on his side and wrapped an arm over the other's middle. "I won't.. until morning." There was a halfhearted grumble in return and he just smiled as the blanket was pulled over them. "Yeah, yeah- alright, I'll let you sleep in." He felt Timothée smile against his skin and he chuckled quietly. "Night, T," Armie mumbled as he closed his eyes.

"Night, Armz," Timothée murmured back with a soft sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took a while to write, but i hope you all enjoyed!
> 
> be sure to leave a comment on here or send me a message [over here!](http://peche-keen.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> [Come check me out on Tumblr!](http://peche-keen.tumblr.com)


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